Victim Of Circumstance
by EmeraldClover89
Summary: Valarie Hughes is your average girl who just wanted to have dinner, but when she finds Larry Daley sneaking around the back halls of the Smithsonian, he drags her along for the adventure of a lifetime. CaponeOC See my profile for an update!
1. The Take Over, The Breaks Over

"Hey, Val," Brundon began with a cheeky smile. Valarie, a sales clerk at the Castle gift shop of the Smithsonian, looked over at the security guard leaning against the counter and sighed. She set down the small figurine she had been dusting and folded up the cloth, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

"I told you already, Brundon. My name is Valarie," she frowned, brushing a strand of chocolate brown hair out of her eyes, "The least you can do is call me by what I ask, since I do that for you."

Brundon lifted a finger and went to say something but stopped when she shot him a threatening glare. She knew he was young like her, but even she was aware that he was crossing a line to harassment. Lucky for him, Valarie was more forgiving than others. He lowered his shoulders and closed his mouth, apparently unable to find the words. Something suddenly caught his attention outside of the gift shop and he stood up straight, making his way out to a piece from an old Egyptian exhibit that now remained as an introductory piece in the Castle. She followed him out to the doorway and watched as he approached a man who had touched the piece. They exchanged words, none of which she could understand from where she stood, but when Brundon tapped the man on the chest with his flashlight, she placed one hand on her hip and the other on her forehead. She could swear that this kid was trying to get fired.

Glancing over her shoulder at the empty gift shop, she stepped away for a moment with the intention of stopping Brundon. When she got close, however, the man took the flashlight and restrained him. He was whispering something to him by the time she approached them, to which the guard replied, "Like, what kind of stuff?"

"I'm not gonna tell you," the man said flatly.

"Brundon," Valarie spoke sternly, "What are you doing?"

Flustered, Brundon stepped away at the sound of her voice and brushed off his suit. "He was just," he began, pointing at the man but faltering under her gaze. He gave in and looked over at the stranger, muttering under his breath, "That's actually really cool, what you just did."

"Thanks," the man smirked, placing a hand on his shoulder and taking his hand for a brisk shake, "We cool?"

"Alright," Brundon blinked, obviously confused. Valarie watched him as he stumbled away, slightly dazed by the proceeding, and did not return her attention to the man in front of her until he was out sight.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "He's not the brightest kid."

"No kidding," the man chuckled. Valarie took a moment to look the man over. He was an older gentleman, at least in his mid thirties, cleaning up nicely in a jet black suit with a light blue, almost white, shirt and striped tie. He had thick black hair and blue-green eyes that sparkled playfully, like his smile.

He looked over at her and she smiled as well, extending a hand, "Valarie Hughes."

"Larry Daley," he introduced himself as he took her hand.

"Well, Mr. Daley, if there's nothing else I can do for you, I should probably get back to my post," she concluded, taking back her hand. She nodded and leaned forward a bit in a subconscious bow while he also nodded in silent reply. At that, she turned a heel and started back towards the gift shop. Noticing another employee there, she picked up the pace, hoping it was not her employer. Fortunetly for her, it was only a fellow worker she recognized as Morgan.

"Hey, Valarie," he waved as she approached him, "Everything alright?"

"Uh, yeah," she nodded, looking back over her shoulder where Mr. Daley had once been, "Just Brundon, you know."

"Ah," Morgan grinned, quickly understanding, "Well, anyway, I came to talk to you because Mr. Newport needs someone to help with shelving a couple new products coming in this evening. I have a game tonight though, so I can't stay. Would you be able to help out?"

"Of course," Valarie agreed.

"Good," he nodded, "In that case, you're gonna need to take a lunch, so I'll cover for you before I go."

"Great," she beamed, turning once more and heading for the back hallways. She was happy to have dinner earlier than expected, since she had slept in that morning, leaving her with no time to eat breakfast or pack herself a lunch. She placed a hand over her stomach as it growled in anticipation.

At the entrance to the back hallways, she swiped her access badge and opened the door. Closing it securely behind her, Valarie started down the empty halls, her small heels clicking against the tile. As she approached the break room and went to open the door, someone stepped out of the locker room to her left. She paused briefly to see if it was someone she knew and, much to her surprise, it was, but not from here.

"Mr. Daley?" she furrowed her brow in confusion. He whipped his head around at the sound of his name, seeming just as surprised as she was. She noticed that he was no longer in his suit, but in one of the security uniforms, complete with flashlight and badge. She pulled away from the door, pointing a finger at the imposter, "You stole Brundon's security badge! You know, I bet you riled him up on purpose, didn't you?"

"Shh," he shushed her, placing a finger over his lips. She went to speak again, so he quickly glanced down the hall to make sure there was no one else around before reaching for her wrist. Despite her pulling away, he caught her and pulled her back with him into the locker room.

"Let me go!" Valarie insisted as he moved between her and the door, closing it behind them.

"Just let me explain myself," Mr. Daley pleaded desperately.

"Explain what?" she repeated incredulously.

"Look, I used to be a night guard at the Museum Of Natural History in New York," he spoke quickly, "There this tablet there that makes everything come to life and it got shipped here by mistake. I have to get it back before sunset."

"A tablet?"

"Yes, The Tablet Of Ahkmenrah," he nodded, exasperated. She tilted her head and looked at him curiously. When she didn't answer, he shook his head and snatched her wrist again, "Look, I don't have time for this. Come with me."

"Hey!" she squealed as he swung open the door and dragged her out of the room. She reluctantly trailed behind him while he started down the hall and started to call someone. "Okay, buddy, I'm in," he said after a moment, slowing down slightly and looking around.

He stopped briefly as he listened but started up again once he recieved directions. Pushing through a nearby door, Valarie stumbled behind him down the stairwell. A couple landings down, he seemed to lose his signal and started going up and down the stairs in an attempt to get it back. Losing her footing with each jerk, she stopped and planted her heels on the middle landing and pulled him back. "You're not going to get any signal down here," she announced plainly, "There's probably some kind of plating blocking reception."

"Do you know where the archives are then?" he asked impatiently.

"No," she shook her head, answering honestly, "I've never been past the first floor. I don't have that kind of clearence."

"I guess we improvise then," Mr. Daley sighed. He was about to start back down the stairs when he paused and turned to face her, "You don't have to come with me, you know. As long as you promise not to tell anyone."

"I'm not letting you go down there. If you're lying and I let you go, I'll lose my job," she snapped but hesitated before adding, "But, if you're not, then you are going to need my help. There are thousands of exhibits down there."

"Thank you," he nodded with a smile, appreciating her offer, "Come on. It's only an hour until sunset."

Valarie followed close behind Mr. Daley as they made their way out the stairwell and started down another set of hallways. After some searching, the two eventually found what they were both certain was an entrance to the archives. The only thing stopping them was the secured gate and security booth. The two walked up to the booth and noticed no one was inside. Instead, a voice came over the intercom requesting that they present identification. Mr. Daley held the badge up to the camera over the gate and made brief conversation with the guard on the other end, lowering his voice and mumbling to sound like the guard. Scoffing at how easy it was, Valarie made a note to point this out to her boss while he hushed her once more.

She pursed her lips at this but complied nonetheless and followed him into the vast underground maze of artifacts. "How are we going to find your tablet in all this?" she said, looking around in awe.

"We split up," he said quickly, "If you see anything, shout."

"Wait," Valarie called after him as he darted down a corridor composed of boxes but he didn't stop. She looked around and her shoulders slumped, "But I don't even know what I'm looking for."

She stood there, alone, and looked around. He did say that it was a tablet, so Valarie assumed that it would be some sort of stone slab with writing etched into it. Still, she wasn't sure how big this tablet was. It could be in any of the thousands of boxes before her. She walked over the the nearest one, tracing the edge with the tip of her fingers when she noticed a sheet of paper stapled to the corner. Kneeling down, she read the information and found that the box was from a museum in San Antonio, Texas. She smiled when she realized that most of the boxes within eyesight had these labels.

"Well," she thought to herself, "That should make things easier."

She started her long campaign, trotting from box to box and, on occasion, clamoring on top of a stack of crates in an attempt to read another's report. After a half an hour of searching, Valarie had found two boxes from New York but both were dated as having arrived a few years ago. She was just about to give up on the search when something down a nearby corridor caught her attention. She blinked in disbelief as she approached a large red trailer, staring at the dozen Egyptian figurines poised to attack it. There was one that looked different from the others, adorned with much more decorations and standing near the back that looked as though he had been shouting. She suspected that he was in charged of these men.

"Mr. Daley!" she said, cupping her hands around her mouth in an effort to amplify her small voice. She heard no response but she continued walking up to the trailer. She could see inside, since part of the metal had been bent back in the fray, and she noticed, among the men with their bows at the ready, a large, gold slab held by a small monkey.

"That's it," Valarie smiled to herself. She turned and shouted again, "I found it, Mr. Daley!"

She back to the trailer once more, still hearing no response. She disregarded it and tried to lift the bar in front of the doors, but the disfigured door made it impossible with her meek strength. So she tried reaching inside, stretching her arm as far as it would go, but her arm was just too short. She mentally cursed her height and pulled her arm out again.

Valarie still hadn't heard from Mr. Daley, so she moved over to a stack of large boxes and climbed up the corners until she was walking along a relativly empty shelf. She kept a hand on a nearby box and placed another over her eyebrows, looking for some sign of the man. When she still didn't see anything, she called out again. Mr. Daley came rounding the corner and looked up at her in surprise, stopping in his tracks.

"How did you get up there?"

"There were some boxes on this side," Valarie explained, point down the hall ahead of him, "Come on. I can't reach the tablet, but maybe you can. Just turn right up there and there'll be an opening to your right."

"Got it," he noted, starting down the hall as she turned back and climbed down the boxes. When she reached the bottom, he had just arrived and was talking to one of the inanimate creatures inside the box. He then reached inside, straining to grab the tablet and pry it from the monkey's grip. However, Mr. Daley got it out and the two of them exchanged a smile. He stepped away from the trailer and looked down at his watch to see how much time they had left but was blinded by a glow emanating from the tablet. Valarie raised her arm to shield her eyes and suddenly heard shouting from all directions.


	2. Run Runaway

Her heart skipped a beat as she lowered her arm to find the Egyptians with their spears to her throat. She glanced over at Mr. Daley, who stood calmly, despite the situation. Looking over at her, he noticed that she was shaking slightly and stepped in front of her. He moved her behind his back protectively and Valarie clutched the fabric on his upper arm as the head of the group approached them, speaking in his native tongue. They both remained silent.

"Parlez-vous? Parlez-vous français?" he pressed, this time in French. Though she did not speak the language, she had a friend who had tried to teach her once and recognized the phrase. She shook her head in reply.

"English?" he tried once more, "English, perhaps?"

"I'm sorry," Mr. Daley interrupted, "Who are you?"

The man before them smiled at the invitation to introduce himself, raising his voice and moving his arms in large, sweeping gestures. "I am Kahmunrah, the great king of kings," he announced with crisp, sharp consonants for a dramatic effect, "And from the dark depths of ancient history, I have come back to life!"

Valarie and Mr. Daley both stood there, silent, while the pharaoh looked at them expectantly. A moment later, he lowered his arms and pursed his lip as he spoke again. "Perhaps you did not hear what I said," he said, matter-of-factly, "I am a centuries-old Egyptian Pharaoh. I was dead but now I have come back to life!"

He ended with the same theatrical, sweeping gesture. From his reaction, he did not receive the response he had been expecting. Had Mr. Daley not warned her of this, and had Kahmunrah not had a slightly distracting lisp, Valarie might have reacted more accordingly, but she remained relatively calm, aside from shying away from the spears.

"Yeah, no, I got that. I heard that," Mr. Daley waved, "Welcome back."

Disappointed and frustrated, Kahmunrah asked, "Who are you?"

"Larry Daley; Daley Devices. It's up in New York," he replied, brushing away the title, "It's funny. I know your brother, Ahkmenrah."

"Do you?"

"Yeah."

"He knows baby brother," Kahmunrah smiled to his men before adding, "The favorite son."

Valarie could pick up on the resentment in the pharaoh's voice, but Mr. Daley was apparently oblivious. "Yeah," he nodded, "Good kid."

"Isn't he just?" the pharaoh agreed sarcastically, "You know, Mother and Father always gave him the best of everything, and I do mean everything. They even gave him the throne. The throne that was rightfully mine!"

"He never mentioned that," Mr. Daley muttered sheepishly.

"I'll just bet he didn't," Kahmunrah replied with a half-hearted smirk, "Well, now begins the era of Kahmunrah, because I have come back to..." He shook his head and lowered his arms when he realized he was about to repeat himself once more. He sighed, holding out his hand, "Nevermind. Just hand me the tablet."

"Don't give it to him, Gigantor!" a voice called from behind them and Valarie looked back to the trailer.

"Keep him away!"

Kahmunrah sighed again at the voices, walking over to the trailer and banging on the side. "Silence! Silence in there, please," he said, "Don't make me come in there."

"No!" the voice spat back, "I will not be muzzled!"

"Look," Kahmunrah sighed once more, circling the two, "That tablet is more powerful than you, Larry Daley of Daley Devices, can possibly imagine. Bringing things to life is just a parlor trick. With it, I shall unlock the Gate to the Underworld and bring forth my army from the Land of the Dead. So, if it's not too much trouble, hand it over."

"Okay, here you go," Mr. Daley said nonchalantly as he handed over the tablet.

"What?" Valarie grabbed his sleeve tighter.

He glanced over his shoulder and she gave him a concerned look. He placed a hand on her own to reassure her as the pharaoh noted, "Wise decision."

"Yeah, I know," Mr. Daley agreed, turning back to Kahmunrah. At the same time, he moved her hand down and wrapped his hand around her hers, pulling her out next to him, "I'm sorry. I thought you wanted the Cube, but..."

Having laid out the bait, Mr. Daley went to walk away with Valarie at his side, but Kahmunrah signaled his men to stop them. "The Cube?" he inquired, curious.

"The Cube of Rubik," he elaborated. Valarie whipped her head around at the name and looked at him like he was insane.

"Alright," Kahmunrah smirked, allowing himself to be led on, "What is this Cube of Ru-Bik, then?"

"The Cube. You know, the one that turns all who oppose you to dust? That one?" he continued, looking at the Egyptians expectantly, as if it were common knowledge. He held up his hands in defeat, "Whatever. I thought... It was my bad cause... You know what, by the way, your brother didn't want to mess with it either. Yeah, he wanted to play it safe too. Just, you sort of struck me as a next-level sort of guy, so I was..."

At that, Kahmunrah lost his common sense to his pride. As he went to leave, the pharaoh stopped Mr. Daley by signaling his men to grab Valarie, who gasped in surprise. "I am not my brother, Larry," he boasted, "I will kill you and your friends in the blink of an eye. Now, take me to this Cube of Rubik."

He smiled in victory but Kahmunrah seemed not to notice or care as Mr. Daley turned a heel, heading down the corridor of crates they had originally come down. The man who had grabbed Valarie tightened his grip on her arm and forced her forward roughly, keeping pace with the pharaoh. She kept her head low, trying to calm herself. She knew he had a plan but being separated from Mr. Daley was disconcerting. Besides that, Kahmunrah was casting his powerful stare in her direction, which made her stomach churn anxiously.

After only a few minutes, Mr. Daley stopped in front of a large box at a turn in the corridor. Valarie knew for a fact that this box did not contain a Rubik's Cube, yet he announced, "Here it is."

"Open it," Kahmunrah commanded.

Mr. Daley nodded, more as a hint to Valarie than a complacent gesture. He went to open the crate and, after a moment of forcing it open, the side popped off and long, purple tentacles went flying everywhere. Reacting quickly, she ducked as one tendril knocked over the guard and scooped up the pharaoh.

"Valarie, grab the tablet!" Mr. Daley called as he raced towards her. Kahmunrah, who was still suspended in the air, dropped the gold tablet, which landed in front of her with a clatter. She reached out and grabbed it while getting to her feet and Mr. Daley grabbed her by the wrist, using his momentum to bring Valarie up to speed. The two raced off as the pharaoh shouted after them.

"Come back here! Come back here with my tablet! I still have your friends!"

That last part caused him to momentarily reconsider but Mr. Daley seemed to decide against it and pressed on. Valarie, who was more of a sprinter herself, started to lose speed after a few minutes and was mostly being dragged along, barely keeping pace. She was watching her feet when he stopped abruptly and she ran into his back, jamming her wrist into his side before stumbling forward. He reached out and stabilized her as she cursed aloud, looking up to see why they had stopped. Sitting before them was a side-car motorcycle driven by a man in a blue military uniform.

"Take the wheel!" he shouted.

"What?" Mr. Daley said, confused.

"I said, 'Take the wheel'!" he repeated, picking up the flag and getting off of the motorcycle. He made his way around to the side car while Mr. Daley walked up and slipped into the driver seat while Valarie sat down behind him. The soldier beamed excitedly as he stepped in the side, "Oh, we're in it now! I love it, I love it!"

"Do you know how to drive one of these?" she asked uncertainly as she wrapped her free arm around his waist.

"Nope," he answered simply before revving up the machine and starting down the corridor.

"Oh!" she shouted in surprise. It had taken off more abruptly than she expected and she grabbed his waist tighter. Glancing over her shoulder, Valarie saw the Egyptians who had been following them left behind but when she turned back, a group had appeared in front of them with their spears at the ready. She shut her eyes while the soldier encouraged him onward.

"Just keep her straight," he insisted, "I'll handle the rest."

She pressed herself against Mr. Daley and peeked to her left. He eyes widened when she noticed a variety of animals, including kangaroos and a wildcat skeleton, running alongside them.

"Okay, so what's the plan here?" he asked and the soldier laughed.

"We're Americans!" he chuckled, "We don't plan, we do! Now, hold on."

Valarie heard clattering and the sound of men grunting. She saw the blur of an arm pass in front of her face and looked over her shoulder to see that they had blown through Kahmunrah's men. "See that!" the soldier shouted victoriously, winking at Valarie, "Act first, think later! Works every time."

He seemed to notice the shock on her face and added, "You're in good hands, Miss. General George A. Custer of the Fighting U.S. 7th Calvary at your service."

Distracted, General Custer didn't notice a low shelf hanging overhead. He was thrown off the bike before Valarie realized what had happened. She turned and Mr. Daley went to stop but he waved and shouted after the two, "I'm good! I'm good! Fly, you fool!"

"No, wait," she shook her head, "He saved us. We've got to go back for him."

"It's okay," he assured her while reassuring himself, "They won't hurt him as long as we have the tablet. Besides, we can patch up a wax figurine but we can't patch you."

Valarie bit her lip but didn't argue, letting the engine drown out her thoughts. The two continued down the path and rounded a corner where they were stopped by a woman blocking their way. The motorcycle skidded to a stop and she looked up at the woman, who was wearing a russet leather jacket, tight khaki pants and brown boots. She had her hands on her hips as she examined them, her bright blue eyes sparkling while her short, curly strawberry blonde hair spilled out from under her matching brown cap, the way that Valarie's fell naturally. "What's the rumpus, Ace?" she inquired with a huge grin.

"Look, lady, could you get out of the way?" Mr. Daley asked impatiently.

"Lady?" the woman repeated, seemingly insulted, "Who are you calling lady? The name is Amelia. Amelia Earhart! Perhaps you've heard of me?"

"Oh, right," Mr. Daley answered without bothering to seem interested, "You're a famous pilot or whatever. Valarie sat up straight and leaned over to look up at him, shaking her head. He apparently didn't pick up on vocal tones very well.

They suddenly heard shouting from behind them and a spear came flying their way, landing just short of it mark and slashing the back tire. Mr. Daley scowled down at the back wheel and the two hopped off the motorcycle.

"Come on," he told Valarie, placing a hand on her shoulder as he started around the corner. Amelia followed the two in their attempt to lose the Egyptians, listing off all the things she had accomplished in her lifetime while they ran.

"Now, if you'd wipe that perhaps permanent look of alarm off your kisser, I was wondering if you might be so kind as to tell me where I am," she concluded as Larry looked about anxiously. He pushed Valarie behind a nearby crate before he slid in next to her. When he noticed that Amelia was still standing out in the open, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her next to them.

"You're in a museum," he explained as he looked around the corner, watching the men pass them by, "Or, actually, under it. And we're in kind of a dangerous situation right now, so you might not want to be anywhere near us."

He grabbed Valarie's wrist and they continued running but Amelia kept pace with them. "Wow, you're fast," she noted, "What's your name, flyboy?"

"My name is Larry Daley," he answered, slowing down as they reached a turn in the corridor, "And this is Valarie."

He noticed rustling behind them and pushed the two behind a large trailer just as a group of Egyptians came around the corner. "Well, Larry Daley," Amelia said while stepping out from behind the trailer with her hands on her hips, "In case you weren't listening, I'm not one to shy away from danger."

Having given away their position, the Egyptians hurtled a slew of spears in her direction. Though Amelia made no move to dodge them, nor did she even flinch, they all missed her. Mr. Daley and Valarie looked at her like she was crazy; she had to be the luckiest person they had ever met. "How about spears?" Mr. Daley scoffed, thinking maybe she hadn't noticed them, "Are you one to shy away from spears?"

"Let's ankle, skipper!" she smiled broadly, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the shadows. He snatched Valarie's sleeve and tugged along while she held on to the tablet. Amelia let go as they began to follow and tugged her cap off her head, adding, "Now we're going to have some fun."


	3. Don't Trust Me

Amelia had a certain spring to her step as she ran ahead of Valarie and Mr. Daley, out into the evening air. They cut across the empty field with Valarie trailing behind the other two, still carrying the tablet in her arms. She leapt off the curb when they reached the end of the grass and crossed the street to the American Art Museum. Mr. Daley waited for her at the bottom of the steps, looking across the National Mall to see if they had been followed. Confident that there was no one there, he took the tablet from her and ushered her up the stairs.

Valarie was so tired from the run that she didn't bother to take in any of the noise around them when she walked through the doors. Her legs ached as she walked over to a nearby wall, placing a palm against it to support herself while she caught her breath. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, surprised to hear her pulse throbbing in her head.

"Are you alright, Valarie?" Mr. Daley asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah," she answered between breaths.

"I'm so sorry," he continued and she let out an unexpected laugh.

"What?" Valarie chuckled as she stood up straight and rolled her shoulders, "That I'm so out of shape?"

Mr. Daley smiled at her humor, the first of which he had heard from her, but shook his head. "For getting you dragged into this," he clarified.

"It's not your fault," she disagreed, shaking her head, "I should have just called security on you in the first place. Of course, then that old pharaoh would have free reign over this place."

She crossed her arms and furrowed her brow as she looked around the room, where several sculptures were mingling around the fountain. She threw out her arms and added, "Where the hell is all the security anyway?"

"You mean Brundon?" Mr. Daley smirked.

"Yeah, you're right," Valarie smiled, "What good would he do?"

She lowered her arms and sighed to herself as she walked over to the fountain. There, she noticed that the three cupids that had been carved into the marble had left their perch and were nowhere to be seen.

"You and your friend are quite the popular pair, Mr. Daley," Amelia noted, "Why don't you two just skedaddle?"

"I can't skedaddle," he answered, "My friends are being held down there. I got to go get them. I got to find a way down."

"Well, we can't go back through the Castle," Valarie pointed out.

"Do all the museums connect to the archives?" Mr. Daley asked.

"I would assume so," she nodded uncertainly, "Here, I think it's this way."

Valarie started past Amelia and Mr. Daley. Though he fell into line behind her, Amelia wandered this way and that as she followed the two, sparing a friendly hello to anyone and everyone she saw. Valarie, on the other hand, focused on how to get to the back rooms. She had only been in the building once or twice before, but she recalled walking through certain corridors on those occasions, despite the moving exhibits. They were almost there when she looked over her shoulder and noticed Amelia had stopped in the entryway to one of the exhibit rooms. Valarie stopped and turned as well, catching Mr. Daley's attention, and he looked over his shoulder just in time to see Amelia saunter off into the room.

"Amelia," Valarie called after her.

"Wait," Mr. Daley whispered, grabbing her arm to stop her, "Let her go."

"We can't," she shook her head, "Kahmunrah's men already saw her with us."

Mr. Daley rolled his eyes and Valarie shot him a look. "Fine," he conceded with a sigh, starting for the room, "Amelia."

She smiled, pleased with herself, and followed after him. He stopped just as he walked through entryway and she walked up next to him. Valarie looked over, noticing that he was staring and followed his gaze to the paintings and photos hanging on the walls which were, much to her surprise, moving.

"This is new," he noted. Amelia walked up to the black and white photo in the corner and smiled while Mr. Daley approached the painting on the wall in front of him.

"Hey, it's alright," he reassured them, holding his hands up, "I don't want to hurt you."

Valarie narrowed her eyes at the two and furrowed her brow. She looked over her shoulder and, catching a glimpse of what was behind her, momentarily froze up. Before she realized she was moving again, she had spun around on her heel. "I don't think it's you they're afraid of," she announced.

Amelia and Mr. Daley turned to see a group of Egyptians standing at the entrance to the room, blocking their only escape as they raised their spears. Mr. Daley turned back to the painting and, thinking on his toes, handed the tablet over to the farmer while snatching up his pitchfork. "Trade you, thanks," he said. He pointed the makeshift weapon at the Egyptians, making random, jumpy moves. Both of the girls rolled their eyes and Amelia stepped forward.

"Never send a boy to do a woman's job," Amelia she stated as she took the pitchfork from Mr. Daley and held it above her shoulder, "I spent two weeks spear hunting with a tribe in Micronesia."

She thrust the pitchfork at the Egyptians, where one easily caught the makeshift weapon, and Mr. Daley and Valarie glared at her. Not only had Amelia missed, but they were now defenseless. She smiled sheepishly, "The Micronesians had much slower reflexes."

"Come on!" Mr. Daley shouted, grabbing Amelia and dragging her into the photo to their left while Valarie took back the tablet and followed suit, narrowly missing the spears the Egyptians began to throw. She felt a weird sensation as she went through the frame and stumbled into the street. A rush of noise came over her as she looked up to find that they had been drained of color. She looked up to the street, where groups of people were celebrating, twirling white cloths above their heads and shouting "It's over! It's over!"

"We're at Times Square," Valarie breathed in amazement when she realized where they were.

"Well," Amelia beamed as she took in the scene as well, "This is one humdinger of a hootenany!"

Mr. Daley was the first to come to, noticing that the Egyptians on the other side of the frame. He took the tablet from Valarie and grabbed Amelia, dragging her into the crowd. Valarie followed close behind but started to lose them as she timidly pushed through the growing crowd. She almost lost them when she heard what sounded like a ringtone. Knowing that cell phones were a long way behind colored photography, she followed the sound and was within reaching distance of Mr. Daley. She went to grab his sleeve when someone caught her hand and whirled her around.

"Hey, wait a minute!"

Valarie felt her stomach lurch. She looked up, fearing the worst, but was relieved to see a young man beaming at her, "What's your hurry? Didn't you hear? The war is over!"

"The war?" she repeated, looking back at the lanky sailor curiously.

"Yeah! The Japanese surrendered," he laughed, "Where've you been?"

She slapped her forehead, shaking her head. She should have known that. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she answered with a smile.

"The name's Joey," he introduced himself.

"Valarie," she answered simply.

"Well, Valarie," he began, taking her hand, "How do you feel about joinin' me for a little celebratin'?"

Valarie felt her cheeks flush but the color quickly drained when she noticed the Egyptians making their way through the crowd towards them. She swiftly closed the distance between her and the New Yorker, placing her body against his as she sought to hide herself.

"Woah! Hold on there, sweetheart," he said, gently grabbing her shoulders and pushing her away from him. He leaned forward and looked examined her face, as if he were looking for something, "Not that I don't appreciate the gesture, but what's going on? Who are you hiding from?"

When she didn't answer right away, he followed her gaze and glanced over his shoulder. Seeing the Egyptians in the crowd, he turned back to her and shook his head. "What am I lookin' at? Mardi Gras?"

"No," she shook her head as she shrunk behind him once more, "No, it's a long story. This guy is trying to steal this tablet from me and my friends. I have to find them, but, just don't let them see me, please."

"Of course," he agreed, turning to a group of sailors nearby, "Hey, Thompson."

The closest of the men turned at the sound of his name. "Yeah, Joey?" he nodded.

"You see those wackos?" he began, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the Egyptians, "Those guys are botherin' this lovely lady here but, you know, five against one doesn't seem fair, now does it?"

"Want us to even the playing field?" one of the men smirked.

"Course, Joey," Thompson agreed.

"Anything for the lady," another sailor winked as he passed, following the others. In the mean time, Joey whisked her away in the other direction. She skipped along next to him, trying to keep up as he pushed through the crowd. She looked around but couldn't see Mr. Daley or Amelia anywhere. Of course, it didn't help that everyone was a blur of black and white. They moved closer to the iconic couple kissing in front of the frame, where Valarie noticed two people leaving the portrait.

"Joey," she said, grabbing his arm and looking up at him as he stopped, "Thank you for all your help, but I have to go find my friends."

"Oh," he said in a soft voice, "Alright then. If you gotta go."

"Thank you again," Valarie smiled sadly. She stood on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek before leaving. He watched her move through the crowd by herself and approached the frame, stepping out into the museum. She was disappointed to find that there was no one there. They had gone on without her and she was left alone.

"Where did he go?" Valarie thought aloud. She looked around the empty room and started for the exit, calling, "Mr. Daley? Amelia?"

Valarie hesitantly walked out of of the room, looking around for any sign of the two. After wandering aimlessly around the museum for some time, she found herself back at the front lobby. Frowning, she walked over to the fountain and made to sit down. However, just as she was leaning forward, something flew out from behind the centerpiece. She turned as it passed her face and another flew past her waist, earning a shout from Valarie. Before she could find out what was going on, another flew past her ear and she raised her arms over her face while her knee buckled. She stumbled backward, lowering her hands and looking over her shoulder to try to stop herself, but, despite her efforts, she hit the edge of the fountain and fell into the water.

Though the water was shallow, Valarie managed to fall on her back, soaking her entirely. She shot up, coughing slightly, and propped herself on one arm as she brushed her hair out of her face. She looked up to find the three cupids that had previously been missing, which were floating above her, and narrowed her eyes at the cherubs. A few exhibits passing nearby spared a laugh as she went to get up and her shoulders lowered with her eyes. She felt her face flush with color as she heard the sound of someone approaching but she didn't bother looking up.

"Here," the person offered. She spared a glance at the voice and looked up to see a young gentleman standing at the edge of the fountain, offering her a hand. The first thing that she noticed was that he was, oddly enough, entirely black and white. He was wearing a black, pinstripe dress pants and a matching jacket and vest over a white dress shirt and tie. A gray fedora with a black band topped his head, tilted slightly to the side. His eyes were sympathetic as he smiled down at her and extended his hand forward. She looked up at him, stricken by the kind gesture, and hesitantly took his hand. He pulled her to her feet as water fell from her drenched clothing and, shivering, she took back her hand to wrap it around her arms.

"You alright, kitten?" he asked, grabbing her elbow and pulling her towards the edge to help her out.

"Yes, thank you," Valarie nodded, cautiously stepping over the side and turning back to the fountain. She leaned over the edge and caught the last few inches of her hair, wringing it out over the water. When she finished that, Valarie stood up straight and started to unbutton her own vest, intending to wring that out as well until she noticed that she was wearing a white blouse underneath it. She looked up at the man in front of her and noticed the small entourage of monochromatic men behind him before buttoning the vest up again and simply rolling back the sleeves instead. He chuckled at this and grabbed his heavy, black jacket off the edge of the fountain, handing it over to her.

"Why don't you take this?" he offered. She stopped rolling up her sleeves and paused to look over at him. When she didn't answer, he added, "It's startin' to get cold outside. I'd hate to see a pretty dame like yourself come down with somethin'."

"Thank you," she repeated as she took the jacket from him. She slipped her arms into the sleeves and shrugged it onto her shoulders. It was a little big for her, the hem falling just above her feet, but it was warm and the lingering smell of a musky cologne was moderately appealing. She closed her eyes with a long sigh and popped the collar to cover her ears.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Valarie," she said shortly as she opened her eyes.

"Al Capone," he added, tipping his hat at her. She stopped short at the name ad stared up at him. She hadn't recognized him at all. A wave of realization came over her when she remembered that there was a black and white cut out of him in one of the exhibits in the Castle and there was no reason for him to be here at the art museum.

"I'm sorry," she said, swiftly taking off the jacket and handing it to him, "Thank you, but I have to go find my friends."

"That's funny, cause we were lookin' for someone too," Capone noted as he took the jacket and gestured his men with a quick nod, "A guy with some doll and this tablet. In fact, the girl dress boy was talkin' about sounded a lot like you."

He walked over to her with a self-assured smile and placed the jacket back over her shoulders, adding, "Like I said, it's gettin' cold outside, so why don't you put the jacket back on."


	4. They Don't Care About Us

Capone was a bit taller than Valarie and he stood beside her with his hand on her shoulder as they walked across the grass back to the Castle. He wasn't lying when he said that it had grown colder outside. She shivered, drops of icy water falling from her hair, and pulled the coat closer in an attempt to stay warm. Still, with her wet clothes underneath, it did little other than keep out the wind.

"Let's go, sweetheart," Capone said when they approached the entrance, sending one of his men in ahead of her before ushering Valarie inside. She reluctantly complied and slipped through the door, unsure of what to expect. Following close behind, Capone walked up behind her and started guiding her down the hall, past his own exhibit and her gift shop to the room where all this had started.

Within the last hour or so, however, Kahmunrah had turned the sterile hall into a cluttered mess. An old armchair had been taken from one of the exhibits and set on top of a pile of red fabric ladened with gold tributes and other trinkets. There were extravagant candelabras burning on either side and men of all sorts from every era surrounding the makeshift throne while the old pharaoh sorted through his new collection. Valarie absentmindedly slowed her pace but Capone shoved her ahead of him.

"Hey, boss," he called out to Kahmunrah as she stumbled forward, "We found the deb you were lookin' for."

Valarie glared back at him, completely spent on being pushed and pulled around the museum. After a moment, she turned to the pharaoh, who was still standing across the room. He looked down at her with a puzzled stare and looked back at Capone, "What happened to her?"

"She took a little swim," he chuckled, stirring up snickers from the rest of his men. She turned and leered back at the mobster again, surprised by his sudden callous.

"Hm," she heard someone say. She turned back to see Kahmunrah standing right in front of her and felt her heart skip a beat in surprise. She went to step away from him, but he caught her by the arm and smiled, apparently amused. "No, don't bother trying to run now."

Kahmunrah looked her over then turned back to Capone. "She doesn't have the tablet," he noted.

"She said she lost her friends, so it's probably with the others," the gangster nodded his head, "Don't worry though. My men are still out lookin' for him."

Valarie, who had been standing under the pharaoh's gaze from some time now, slumped her shoulders and lowered her eyes, which darted about anxiously. She could feel his gaze on her and it made her uncomfortable. After standing silently for some time, Kahmunrah spoke.

"I'm sure I can find some use for her," he said, tossing her to a group of knights behind him and pointing to a modest chair at the base of his throne where one of the mobsters was sitting, "Tie her up in the chair."

"Ugh," she groaned when she hit them. They immediately grabbed her arms and moved her hands behind her back, wrapping a rope around her wrists. When her hands were secured, they moved her over to the chair and tied her ankles. The mobster who had originally been sitting there was now standing at attention beside her with another gangster.

Valarie looked up in time to see Kahmunrah walk past her, returning to the pile of gold. She tugged at the ropes but one of the mobsters shot her a look, so she let out a sigh in defeat and looked down at her lap. Though she still had on Capone's coat, her pants were wet and her legs were exposed. She couldn't move the tail of the jacket over them to keep them warm with her hands tied, so she shivered again and lowered her gaze, focusing on a brown vase sitting on the other side of the crimson carpet and trying to forget the cold.

After a few minutes, Valarie looked around curiously at the group of people in the room and furrowed her brow. It was so quiet, it was unnerving. She looked up at a man standing across from her in a silver robe, separating several strands of bead necklaces while Capone paced on the other side of the table. Most of the other men stood at their post, waiting for the next order. Her eyes fell back on Capone and he stopped when he noticed that someone was watching him. Seeing it was Valarie, he offered her a smile. However, she was still bitter about him laughing at her earlier so she simply looked away.

"Hey, since when did you become a bearcat?" Capone whispered in the quiet of the room as he approached her.

"You laughed at me," she noted, not bothering to turn.

"Well, sure, sweetheart," he chuckled again, "It was funny. You weren't hurt, now, were you?"

"No," she muttered as she glanced up at him.

"Then why not laugh about it?" Capone beamed, "You've gotta laugh at yourself every once in a while."

Valarie contemplated agruing the point. She knew for a fact that Scarface would never have put up with teasing, good-natured or otherwise. He could hardly put up with a nickname.

"Why, these aren't real rubies at all."

At the pharaoh's voice, Capone stepped back and looked up while Valarie bit her lip to hold in a giggle. Kahmunrah was sitting in the large armchair with a magnifying glass in one hand and Dorothy's ruby slippers from the Wizard of Oz in the other.

"Ruby slippers, indeed," he said, chucking them to the left and brushing the arm of his chair, "But, whoever you were, Archie Bunker, you had one comfortable throne."

"Hey, boss."

Kahmunrah, who had leaned back in the armchair, rolled his eyes and looked up as everyone turned to the entrance. One of Capone's men walked up and passed by Valarie with a bird cage at his side. She blinked in surprise when she saw that there was what appeared to be a little man inside and watched intently as the mobster stopped in front of the pharaoh.

"Caught this one tryin' to escape through a rust hole in the crate," he continued as he held up the cage, "One of his little friends got away."

"Oh, please, what damage could they possibly do?" the pharaoh scoffed, not bothering to stand, "Why, they're no bigger than a little grain of couscous, aren't you?"

"You know, there're two words come to mind when you talk," the small blonde spoke calmly and Valarie realized this was the same voice she had heard earlier that night in the trailer, "'Delusional' and 'weirdo'. And if I had to say a third, 'goofy'. Just goofy. Now let old Jedidiah out of here or he's gonna get angry."

A smile tugged the corner of her lips. Jedidiah had made him out to be a silly villain rather than the dark pharaoh seeking to unleash a timeless army, but she didn't dare to laugh. Instead, she bit her bottom lip and waited for his reaction.

"I just can't take you seriously," Kahmunrah laughed, "You're just adorable, even when your threatening me. It's hilarious. Is it just me or are these guys unbelievably cute?"

"Now, hold it a second now," Jedidiah stopped him, "Now, you have every right to keep me as your captive, torture me even, but don't call me cute! I ain't cute!"

At that point, Valarie couldn't hold it in any longer. She let out a giggle and the men looked back at her and she felt her face flush with color. Before anyone could say anything, however, there was a shouting at the entrance and everyone turned once more.

"Gigantor," Jedidiah whispered and Valarie felt her heart sink when she saw that Mr. Daley had been captured by a group of soldiers. Kahmunrah got to his feet and everyone, with the exception of the two men watching over her and the mobster with the bird cage, walked over to meet Mr. Daley. With all of that movement, Mr. Daley almost didn't see Valarie sitting there. When he noticed her though, he stopped dead in his tracks and did a double take, his eyes widening in surprise. She could only assume that he thought she had left when they got separated from the way he was looking at her.

"Hello, Mr. Daley," Kahmunrah smirked as he walked up to him, "Nice to see you again. Now, if you don't mind, I shall take that from you."

The pharaoh snatched the tablet from him with mock thanks, regaining his attention, and both she and Mr. Daley lowered their shoulders in defeat. They watched as he crossed the room, wasting no time as he began, setting the tablet into place on the jet black sarcophagus.

"Finally," he said while pressing the dials on the tablet, "Finally! After three thousand years, my evil army of the damned, my beautiful, beautiful army, shall be unleashed!"

He shouted the last part and turned, rushing forward in his usual dramatic fashion, and everyone looked around expectantly. After a moment, when nothing happened, Kahmunrah turned back to the sarcophagus and sighed in exasperation.

"I'm afraid that, uh, Mother and Father may have slightly changed the combination on me," he muttered, tapping his fingers together anxiously.

"Wow, I guess this whole unleashing the underworld thing isn't working for you, huh?" Mr. Daley noted at the turn of events, "Just, it must be really frustrating, cause you've waited thousands of years to come back from the dead and everything and now you can't get it open."

"Fear not," Kahmunrah said, refusing to be defeated, "I shall wait a thousand more if I must."

"Good," Mr. Daley continued, "Cause in a few hours you'll be standing here in the frustrated position, frozen, and I'll walk out of her with my buddies and that'll be that. So, I got all night."

He glanced over at Valarie and she sat up straight. She smiled, realizing it only made sense that the exhibits would become inanimate at sunrise. Kahmunrah narrowed his eyes until a thought struck him and he smiled once more. "Really? All night?" he repeated, pointing to his right, "Well, he doesn't."

Mr. Daley turned away from her and followed his gesture to the bird cage with the small miniature inside. His eyes widened once more but he tilted his head, trying to keep his composure.

"Open that cage," Kahmunrah commanded the gangster, who went to open the wire cage as he started towards them.

"What are you," Mr. Daley began, pausing briefly as the men around him lowered their weapons threateningly, "What are you doing?"

"Woah, no touching," Jedidiah shouted when he realized what the pharaoh was doing, "No touching! Don't you manhandle me!"

"Oh, look, he's having a little tantrum," he hesitated briefly for a quick laugh.

"Jed?" Mr. Daley called, recognizing the voice.

"No, don't you squirm," Kahmunrah cooed as he reached inside and picked up the little man, "Don't squirm. It'll only be worse for you."

Valarie closed her eyes. She was afraid to protest in her vulnerable position, but Mr. Daley spoke up, regardless. "Put him down!"

"Don't be afraid. I shan't hurt you," he continued, ignoring the demand while he picked up a large hourglass. The pharaoh held Jedidiah over the opening at the top and dropped him inside, adding, "Woops, I lied."

"No," Valarie whispered, realizing what he was doing. He closed the opening and turned the hourglass over.

"Uh oh. I don't think he has all night at all, Mr. Daley. From the looks of things, I'd say he has, oh, a little over an hour," Kahmunrah concluded while Jedidiah shouted and banged on the glass. He walked back over to the sarcophagus and pulled the tablet out again, "You were the guardian. You know all about this tablet. You're obviously much more clever than the rest of us. You may or may not know the combination, but I am going to give you exactly one hour to figure it out. If you do not, I shall kill your friends, starting with that one."

He handed the tablet over to Mr. Daley and pointed back at Valarie which made her stomach drop. She met eyes with Mr. Daley and they both went to speak when Kahmunrah added, "And please don't think of escaping, for I shall be watching you."

"Look, I don't even know how to even begin to decipher this thing, all right?" he called after Kahmunrah as he walked up to Valarie, adding softly, "Really."

"What a pity," Kahmunrah lamented almost genuinely as he roughly caught her cheek and turned her to face him. He smiled at her anxious expression, "Such a waste. And your little cowboy friend seemed like such a charming little fellow too."

Releasing her, the pharaoh sauntered back to him and smirked, "Ah, well, tick-tock, Mr. Daley. Your hour has begun."

"Hey! You got this, partner. I know you do!" Jedidiah shouted supportively from the hourglass, trying to pry his eyes away from Valarie, "You got this!"

She realized that her demeanor had shaken his confidence, so she tried to be supportive and forced a smile. She nodded at him in agreement, which Kahmunrah noticed, and as Mr. Daley turned with new motivation, the pharaoh stalked back to her and snatched her by the hair.

"Ah," she gasped, trying not to shout in fear that it would draw Mr. Daley back.

"You're so quiet," he noted while leaning in close, "I hadn't even considered what you might know."

"I don't know anything," Valarie cried out in pain, "I work here. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"The victim of circumstance," Kahmunrah smiled with amusement as he let her go. She gasped as he walked over to Capone, where Jedidiah started shouting profanities at the pharaoh.

"Leave the girl alone, you four-flushing, flannel-mouth rip! You touch her and I swear, by hook or crook..." he trailed off as he beat against the glass.

"Please," Kahmunrah shook his head and turned back to Capone, "I hear you and your men have a way with getting information, Mr. Capone. Perhaps you could find out if there's anything more that she knows?"


	5. Let's Hear It For The Boy

"Sure, boss," Capone nodded, though somewhat reluctantly. He turned to the two men standing on either side of Valarie, nodding at the girl then back toward the hall behind him. She shuffled anxiously in her seat as the men moved around her, the larger of the two handing the other his tommy gun. He took a knee in front of her, putting his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to sit up straight. Confused, she furrowed her brows, wondering what he was doing. He suddenly moved his hands down her arms to her waist, which caught her by surprise, and she let out a gasp as he picked her up from the chair and threw her over his shoulder.

"Ow," she moaned softly, straining for a clear view of what was going on around her. The gangster carrying her rolled his shoulder and caught her midriff, where it was apparently easier for him to carry her. However, this meant his shoulder was bruising her stomach with every step now. She sucked in her stomach and moved about, trying to alleviate the pain as they started out the room and down the hall, but he simply wrapped his arm around her tighter and pressed down in response.

Now in even more pain, she stopped moving and closed her eyes. She was hurt, tired, hungry and, admittedly, scared and she bit her lip in frustration as she tried to force back the tears that were coming. Despite herself, she let out a few sharp breaths as the tears streamed down her face. None of the three men seemed to notice at first, but Capone suddenly stopped the two and asked, "What's that noise?"

Though her eyes were lowered and her hair obscured her vision, she heard his footfalls echo as he walk up to her. "Is that you?" he pressed, brushing the hair out of her face. She stayed silent and looked away to avoid meeting his eyes.

Capone stepped back and spoke to the man carrying her, "Put her down for a sec."

She let out a low groan as the man moved once more but he closed the distance promptly and leaned forward, gently setting her down on the bench. He stood up again and she rolled her shoulders. She had never been carried like that by anyone before and her whole body ached. A sniffle escaped and she bit her bottom lip again. Capone smirked at her reaction and took a knee in front of her.

"Listen, dollface," he began, reaching down for her feet. She tensed and pulled them under the bench on impulse. He looked up at her, his dark eyes flashing dangerously as he momentarily lost his gentle tone. "You want me to untie your feet or would you prefer we keep carryin' you around like a sack of potatoes?"

Valarie blinked and lowered her guard at the question, confused. He smiled and reached for her feet once more, grabbing the rope as he continued. "Now, like I was tryin' to say, all I need you to do is answer a couple questions and, if you're bein' honest, I won't have to hurt you, understand?"

She felt the rope around her ankles fall to the floor as he finished as she nodded complacently. "Good," Capone said, looking up at her with a broad grin, "'Cause, honestly, it don't sit well with me, hittin' a pretty lady like yourself."

An involuntary smile tugged the corner of her lips at the compliment. He moved onto the bench, sitting down beside her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. He turned her slightly to untie her wrist as he spoke. "So, your name is Valarie, right?" She nodded but didn't speak.

"Okay, Val," he continued, "Where're you from?"

Out of habit, she went to correct him, but stopped herself when she realized who she was talking to. "New York," she answered instead while attempting to look over her shoulder.

"Really?" he said, sounding surprised, "What part?"

"Upper Manhattan."

"Alright," Capone spoke, "So, if you're from New York, what are you doin' here?"

"Do you even know where here is?" she wondered aloud.

"Well, I know it ain't New York, sweetheart," he chuckled as she felt the rope lose tension and fall from her wrist. Valarie put off answering his question for a moment, bringing her hands in front of her. She examined her wrist, which were slightly red with a few flakes of chafed skin, and wrapped one hand around the other to try to alleviate burning sensation that overcame them. She looked over her shoulder again to find him shooting her an expecting look.

"I'm taking classes here," she explained quickly, setting her hands in her lap.

"Like a boardin' school?"

"No," Valarie shook her head as she turned to face him, "College."

"Are you even old enough to be in college?" he inquired.

"I'll be nineteen in March," she answered.

"So you're one of those smart types," Capone grinned, "Alright, abercrombie, if you're here for school, what're you doin' at this place? It's a museum, right? You studyin' for a test or somthin'?"

"I work here," Valarie replied.

"You work too?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, sure. Scholarships only go so far," she nodded, holding up a hand and ticking off the things she was responsible for, "I've got to pay for food, housing, insurance, a car, gas..."

"You don't got parents for that?" Capone furrowed his brow, "That crumb Daley can't spare two cents for you?"

"Mr. Daley isn't my dad."

"You sure about that?"

"Yes," she answered solemnly and lowered her eyes, "My parents passed away when I was just a girl. I hardly know Mr. Daley at all."

"He's awful protective for bein' a total stranger," Capone noted, earning a heavy sigh from Valarie.

"Look, I found him sneaking around the back halls when I went to lunch this evening," she explained as he stood up from the bench. She followed him with her gaze while he walked away from her, "I'm sure he just feels bad 'cause he dragged me along so I wouldn't call security on him."

He walked a few steps ahead of her, past his men, and paused for a moment with one hand on his chin and the other around his elbow. Deep in thought, she knew he was passing judgement on her answers.

"So, you really don't know anythin', do you?"

"Not really," she said, letting out the breath she had been holding.

"Well, Valarie, I'm sorry," Capone sighed along with her as he walked up to her and offered a hand. She hesitated, staring at his palm, but, after a moment, she accepted it. Smiling as he wrapped his fingers around her hand, he pulled her up onto her feet. "I guess you really were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Seems that way," she agreed, taking back her hand. He looked down at her as she stared up at him, anxiously awaiting his next move and grinned at her timid behavior. He placed his hands on her shoulders and she felt a bead of water go down her back and Capone realized just how wet she had gotten falling into the fountain.

"You're still soaked," he noted, looking her over with concern, "You must be freezin'. How about we find you a towel and some dry clothes?"

Valarie didn't argue when he placed a hand her shoulder, turning around and ushering her down the hallway. She lowered her gaze and counted the tiles to until they reached the double doors at the front of the building. Capone held the door open for her and pushed her outside. She hid a shiver as the wind whipped at her exposed legs, snaked around her neck and bit her cheeks. Popping the collar of his coat and pulling it close, he returned his hand while they began the trek across the grass courtyard towards the American History Museum. She let her thoughts continue to wander, trying to steady her mind as she gazed over at the Washington Monument, where the full moon was lingering in the sky just above the marble obelisk.

"Watch your feet," Capone warned her as they reached the steps, but she didn't turn in time. She tripped on the bottom step and he swiftly grabbed her shoulders to stabilize her. "What did I tell you?" he chuckled as she looked up at him.

"Sorry," Valarie blushed in embarrassment.

"Come on," he shook his head and ushered her up the steps and into the building. It was surprisingly quiet inside, or moreso than she expected, and only a few exhibits made their way through the lobby. However, they could hear several varieties of music off in the distance and Capone took her hand to pull her along, following the sound.

"Here we are," he announced with a sweeping gesture as they rounded the corner to the entertainment section of the museum. There was more chatter in here, with several men and women, along with a few puppets, running about the room. However, it was the tall, dark figure of Darth Vader stalking about the room that caught her attention.

"I never thought I'd see the day," she whispered to herself. Her initial reaction was that of awe, until he approached a man blocking his way. He raised his hand as if to use the fictional force from the movies, and, when he realized it wasn't working, lowered his shoulders and sulked away once more, at which point Valarie let out a hearty laugh.

"Look," Capone said, catching her attention as pointed to a nearby exhibit with a picture of a boxer. The robe was missing from the mannequin inside the case but there was a speedball and a large, white towel left inside. As he handed it to her, she held it by a corner and looked at him like he was insane.

"Muhammad Ali's towel?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Are you really gonna be picky about it?" he shot back, "It ain't like this is the Ritz, Val. Where else do you suggest we find a towel in a museum? Anyway, it doesn't look like it's been all that used."

She grabbed another corner and held it in front of her, examining the cloth. He was right, of course. It even looked as though it had been cleaned before it was donated. She chalked up the discoloration to age and conceded, placing the towel over her arm. As she went to ask where they were going to get dry clothes from when someone flew past her. She swiftly moved out of the way, pressing herself against the case, and turned just in time to see a furry, pink monster race past her.

"Woman! Woman! Woman!"

Valarie couldn't help but laugh aloud when she saw the muppet, Animal, chasing after Marilyn Monroe. She wrapped her arm around stomach and grabbed onto the glass display while Capone looked over and smiled at her reaction. A bright, sudden flash caught their attention and she stopped laughing and looked up to see a small group of men from the camera exhibit, taking pictures and shouting questions at the gangster. He narrowed his eyes and took a step back towards Valarie while their two escorts stepped forward, placing themselves between the mob boss and the mock press.

"Let's go," he growled, pulling her past the group. She flinched as he tightened his grip around her wrist but he didn't seem to notice. He dragged her into the next hall while his men stopped in the entryway, threatening the paparazzi that made to force their way through.

"Sorry about that," Capone apologized, letting go of her wrist and brushing out the wrinkles in his suit. After a moment, he looked up at the exhibits in front of him and started down the hall. She watched him as she rubbed her wrist again, which had been irritated by his tight grip.

"Here it is," he said as he stopped in front of a glass case. Valarie followed after him and looked up at the exhibit before her. It was about Grace Kelly, a famous actress she was mildly familiar with, but Capone was gesturing at the dress inside. It was a gown with a tight, black, off-the-shoulder top and a full, white skirt. The only modest detail was sewn into the layer of lace around the skirt with matching black ivy falling from the waist.

"You want me to wear that?" she asked incredulously.

"You don't like it?" he shot back in the same tone.

"No," she said, shaking her head, "No, it's beautiful. I just don't know."

She trailed off as she lowered her eyes and rubbed her arm. He shot her a look as he opened the case, moving behind the seamstress mannequin. "Why don't you give it a try," he suggested as he pulled it off and handed it to her. He then snatched up the matching gloves and pearl necklace.

"Alright," Valarie agreed reluctantly. She folded it over her arm and glanced around.

"What're you doin'?" he questioned, stepping out of the exhibit.

"Looking for somewhere to change," she replied.

"Just change here," he told her bluntly.

"No," she protested, shaking her head.

"Come on, Val," he sighed, "I'll close the shutters."

"Liar," she snapped.

Capone gave her a surprised look. She was almost afraid she had upset him when his expression softened. "Alright, that's fair," he surrendered with a smirk as he pointed down the hall, "I think I saw a restroom down this way."


End file.
